I’m beginning to suspect that buses (and other forms of public transportation) actually bring us into a different world. One that is restorative and healing, in which nerves are calmed, feet rested, and annoyances soothed. In a bus, proper thinking gets done. Whether you know it or not.
Whenever I contrive to ‘reflect’ on my working experience I make reference to two sets of people – those who are agreeable/whose companionship I enjoy, and those who are most unpleasant to be around. Sometimes I grouse inwardly about the latter, sometimes I try to forget that they exist. But always, one thought comes: I DON’T LIKE HIM/HER.
My conscience gasps, and maybe I feel a little guilty. I panic. God, I’m not supposed to be so irritable, am I? Can You change me? Why haven’t You changed me? Do I not feel my inadequacy with enough desperation? Am I lacking in faith?
Oh, I guess I just have to be Christlike and show them how Your holiness is supposed to appear. I guess I’m supposed to dream of evangelizing to these intentionally-placed people and convert-
Stop, because that’s unbiblical by fault of omission. By far the most pressing command we have when it comes to people is to love them. None of my ‘do-good’ notions of Christian-like behavior comes close.
And the less you like someone, the more you need to love them.
I’m sure this isn’t a new thought. But it feels new each time I think it. Maybe our word usage has messed with our minds, because of how we use the word ‘like’ (e.g. Ooooh does he like you?), namely as a prelude to ‘love’ (e.g. Does he just like you, or does he actually love you??). Ideally we’d like to love every person we like and vice versa. But really, liking someone is effortless when you, well, like them. Now loving them, on the other hand…